Reservation For Ten
by CedwardPattinsonian
Summary: Featuring 9 other surprise authors! 10 strangers--Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, Edward, Jasper, Bella, Esme, Carlisle, Jacob, Ness--are invited to a high school reunion on Isle De Corpor. But what happens when people start dying? M for language/mature content.


_DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, nor do any of my co-authors. They belong to the illustrious Stephenie Meyer and her magical Twilight-world that we know we all wish we lived in. Right?_**  
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**A/N: Hey there, kitties! I am so excited about this project and I hope you enjoy reading it because I had a lot of fun putting it together! **

**Each of us (there are ten of us total) wrote one of these POVs. Can you guess who wrote what?**

**Most chapters following this one will be one POV only, written by one author.**

**As each chapter is published, I'll reveal who the author is. Sound fun?**

_  
Dear Friend,_

_I am pleased to invite you for a weeklong stay at my newly purchased island. _

_As you may recall, I went to school with you some years ago. I am organizing a reunion, and have invited several others from our class. As I just bought the lovely Isle de Corpor, I thought it would be nice to have all of you stay here to catch up on old times. I have become a successful entrepreneur and would like to hear what you've all been up to._

_I hope to see you soon._

_U.N. Owen_

---

Emmett McCarty

_Holy shit! These ladies are crazy tonight! That one in the front…I'm pretty sure she didn't have to stick her hand that far into my g-string to leave a tip. I was in fear for my boys' lives for a moment there._

I had just finished my finale and could hear the announcer as I made my way back stage.

"Ladies…and you three gentlemen too, that is our show tonight. Thank you so much for coming out and playing with our guys. The men of Chippendale's salute you all."

Being one of the feature performers, I didn't have to be on stage for this little "salute." I was done for the night and couldn't wait to go home and shower all the stench of 40-year-old desperate housewives off of me. Then it was off to the Palms. I could always be sure to find some hot young women there. Just last week, I met an incredible set of twins. _Vegas is the place to be, that's for sure._

My eyes glazed over a little at the memory of the two blondes with overly done boob-jobs. _Yeah, the Palms is definitely the final destination for me tonight._

I was pulling money out of my g-string, trying to count the take for the night. I already had over $700 from my initial performance, and the finale money always doubled the take for the night. Not to mention the 30 percent I would get from the house for the lap dances I gave to the overweight and under-groomed tourists from Nebraska, or Montana, or wherever the fuck they came from.

_I fucking love this job._

"Hey, McCarty!" one of the stagehands called out to me.

_Aw, Christ. I hate this dude. He's a creepy little guy who thinks he is going to do the show one day. Think again, Sparky. It's gonna take a shitload of work to get a body like this out of a body like yours._ I ran one hand over my pecs and down across my perfectly defined abs.

"What is it?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice.

"This letter came for you." He was holding out the letter to me.

"No thanks. I don't need to know how much Mabel from Sheboygan loved my gyrating hips and dancing pecs." I tried to push past him.

"This came by messenger and they made me sign for it and everything." He thrust the envelope at me again.

I took the paper, and ripped it open, fairly sure that Mabel wouldn't use a messenger just to tell me how she fantasizes about me when her husband is grunting on top of her.

After reading the letter, I was a little dumbfounded. Some guy I supposedly went to high school with had sent me an invitation to a reunion, and a plane ticket to his private island.

_What the fuck. I was just thinking yesterday that I needed a vacation, and if some other moron is going to pay the bills…all the better._

---

Alice Brandon

Using my teeth, I ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled out an embossed invitation, a ringed corner missing where I'd bitten through the paper. My eyes hazy with sleep, I scanned the raised lettering, my fingers brushing over the delicate, textured paper. There was to be a reunion, hosted by someone I couldn't remember. Though I tried to remember him, I realized I could not. But, as always, curiosity would get the better of me and I'd attend.

I dropped the invitation onto the floor, over the edge of the tub and leaned back, sinking further underneath the soapy veil. The winds outside rattled the panes, a sharp draft cutting through the cracked shutters and into the bathroom. I used my freshly painted toes to flip on the hot water, sending a resurgence of warmth through my body to counteract the cold air.

I stayed in the tub until my fingers pruned and I had a rosy flush to my cheeks. Stepping out of the tub, I dripped water onto the invitation before making my way towards the towel rack. Wrapping myself in a thick, woven towel, I stood in front of the mirror and used my palm to wipe the condensation off the glass. Staring at myself, I knew the truth; no matter how many baths I took, it couldn't change what happened.

I shook my head and made my way towards the best room. The rest of the house was vacant, except for a few field mice and the memories of times past. My deliberate ignorance of what happened here was the only way I was able to stay here. Crawling into bed still wrapped in my towel, I turned out the light and rested my head upon the thin cotton wrapped pillow and hoped, really hoped, that maybe this invitation was the excuse I needed to make a fresh start.

_---_

Jacob Black

When Billy had given me the letter back in the house, I didn't know whom it might have been from. I was certain that I did not know of a "U.N. Owen", but there was a chance that he was in my school. My school was large, and I for sure didn't know who everyone was. There was also the generous gesture of giving me plane tickets to the island to take into consideration. _Wow_, I thought, _rich man_.

I stayed in my garage, fixing the motorcycle that Seth told me to fix. I wasn't sure if he was even old enough to own one, but hey, he was going to pay. That was all that mattered. When I was looking for my wrench, I heard footsteps nearing to where I was. I looked up and saw Sam staring down at me. I threw him a quick glance as I continued on trying to find that wrench. He cleared his throat to catch my attention. When he remained there for several minutes, I became fed up and finally confronted him.

"What do you want?" I growled to make sure he knew that I was busy. "I have to fix this for Seth."

Sam looked down at me and muttered, "I heard you got a letter."

I looked up knowing that Billy must have told him about the reunion letter. "So?"

His eye was twitching slightly as he asked, "Are you going?"

I shrugged as I finally found the wrench I was looking for. I put it on a screw and tightened it as I tried to concentrate on something else other than Sam. Sam has never been my best friend; yet, he acts as if he was my older brother. He thinks that it's his responsibility to protect me from the evil of the world.

"Sure, why not? I would love to go to a school reunion. I want to see some of my friends."

His eyes stared down at me as if they were throwing daggers through my skin. He reluctantly said, "Fine. Just know what you are getting yourself into." With that, he left the garage and myself alone.

_Finally_, I thought. Suddenly, I felt angry at him for even thinking he had a say in what I chose in my life. _Stupid. Sam. Thinks. He. Knows. Everything._

"OWW!!" I yelled as I accidentally hit my thumb with the hammer

I was using to fix a dent in the motorcycle.

---

Rosalie Hale

_Seriously…how long does it actually take to get the check around here? Did they have to scamper out into the forest, chop a tree down, and make the receipt paper from scratch?_

"Lunch was delicious, Daddy," I said as I took one last sip from my water glass. The wine glass had long since gone dry, and the dumbass waiter kept forgetting that I'd asked for a refill. _Honestly, this isn't rocket science here, people._

"It was, wasn't it my dear? Although the duck was tad dry," he said as he sipped from his scotch glass.

My eyes scanned the brightly lit, sun-filled room. "And the service is lacking a bit, too, I might add. Where is that dreadful waiter?"

"Mmm… I daresay we never come here again. If you can't be perfect a hundred percent of the time, then what's the point, eh?" He blotted his mouth with his napkin as he pulled his Blackberry from his pocket, checking for messages.

"Exactly, Daddy."

My father and I went out to lunch once or twice a week. With our busy, chaotic schedules, it gave us the opportunity to catch up. My mother joined us every once in a while, when she wasn't busy with Hector, the gardener or the bottomless bottle she had, _I swear_, surgically attached to her hand.

I had always been daddy's little princess, and he loved to dote on me. I couldn't begin to count the designer clothes, handbags, shoes, and accessories that he'd purchased for me over the years. When my highly successful interior design company took off, it took several trucks to move all my belongings into my own loft. I was however, a little disappointed that the moving company couldn't spare more men to help. Daddy paid top dollar for their services; the least they could do was drop everything else and take care of me.

Finally, the waiter arrived and Daddy signed the receipt. "Shall we?" he said as we both stood from the table. I nodded. I was more than ready to leave this shithole.

As we made our way out of the restaurant, Daddy gave me a quick kiss as my driver opened the car door. "I'll see you same time next week, pumpkin?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Daddy. Give Mother my best." I slipped inside the leather-seated Jaguar, giving him a quick wave and smile before the door closed and he turned to get in the car waiting behind mine.

As the car pulled away from the curb, the driver spoke up, asking, "Back to office, Miss?"

"Yes, please. Also, did you happen to pick up my mail this time? Or did you conveniently forget, just like everyone else today?" I turned my head to the side, looking out the window and taking note of all the ill-dressed women out for a day of shopping.

"No, Miss, it's on the seat beside you." I thought I could detect a bit of sarcasm from the driver. But I decided to ignore it because the mail was, in fact, on the seat beside me.

_After that disaster of a lunch, who could blame me for being a bit distracted? __**It's empty, just refill the damn glass.**_

As I sifted through the magazines and envelopes, one in particular caught my eye. It wasn't unusually beautiful, but it wasn't your basic, run-of-the-mill kind of envelope, either.

_Hmm…come join us for a reunion with old friends?_ I read. How cryptic. It was signed, 'U.N Owen'. _Owen…Owen…Did I know anyone with the last name Owen in high school? Better question would be 'did I want to remember anyone with the last name Owen from high school?'_

"That's strange…" I mumbled.

The driver, hearing me, coughed and asked, "Did you say something, Miss?"

"What? Oh…uh, no. Just get me to the office as fast as you can."

He nodded his head as he sped the car up. "Yes, Miss." We were only a few blocks from my building by now.

I shifted in my seat, and as I did so, I noticed the attached, thicker document behind the letter: a plane ticket to some island.

_What the hell_…I thought. _I_ _haven't had any real adventure or vacation since…well; I try not to think of him anymore._

---

Carlisle Cullen

I read the strange letter for a second time before setting it down on the pile of bills I had been working on. I used my free days from the hospital to catch up on my finances and mail. Having no living family, nor friends outside my hospital colleagues, I spent most of my free time doing mundane errands and catching up on the recent findings amongst the medical community.

Most of my colleagues thought I led a lonely life; but I didn't think of it that way. I was perfectly content with my job in the hospital.

_So what if my life revolved around a simple routine that consisted of work, research, and more work? _

The silence of the big house answered my unspoken question, announcing the loneliness I couldn't hide from myself.

_Maybe I should spend some time outside the hospital?_

I scanned the letter a third time. _U.N. Owen. _Racking my brain for any memories of that name proved unsuccessful. However, in all honesty, even in my young days at school I was never one for many friends, always preferring grades and academics to any other social human contact.

_Isle de Corpor?_

I smiled at the memory of my last friend who had always wanted to visit a beach.

"_I've never seen the ocean, I would give anything to see it once." _

She had said it in one of her visits; it was a bittersweet memory of a friend long gone. I examined the envelope to find a single plane ticket in it. Tapping the ticket on my desk, my decision was made. I took my cell phone out of my pocket and called the hospital, letting them know I would finally use all those vacation days.

---

Nessie Carlie

I glanced at the fridge for the tenth time since entering the kitchen. The letter was stuck to the freezer door, crumpled from having been thrown into the trashcan and then rescued. Next to it, on a larger piece of paper with vibrant purple and green writing, was my pro/con list. The plane ticket that fell out of the envelope with the letter was tucked away in the top drawer of my dresser.

For the past three days I had read and re-read the letter, weighing my options and adding them to the list. Was I over-thinking this? I was _definitely_ over-thinking this. Who spends three days overanalyzing an offer to spend time on an exotic island? Clearly, I did.

I stopped my pacing and faced the fridge. I squinted, eyeing the list with scrutiny as I resolved to make my decision tonight. Classes had let out a month ago and I had yet to find a decent summer job to keep myself preoccupied until September. It was almost June and soon high school kids would also be on the job hunt. Employment wasn't necessary; however, it did prevent me from spending countless hours staring vapidly at the television screen as I watched and re-watched episodes from The Office, both UK and American editions. This, aside from the obvious free trip, was a major player for the pro side.

The first item to grace the con list was likely the one that was holding me back. U.N Owen? I really could not place the name. There were few names that I could think of that would begin with U, and with the way the letter was signed, it led me to believe that this person would have gone by the name Owen. Looking back on high school, I couldn't think of a single friend or acquaintance with that name. Granted there was little I could remember from the last two and a half years of the blessed high school experience. Especially when you considered that I spent more time at basement parties and bonfires than I did in class. The con list reflected the passive and cautious person I had become. At the age of 22 I had become a hermit, going to class, doing the work, and then watching television series' on DVD. I really was embracing this entire university lifestyle.

With that final thought I grabbed the letter and list from the fridge and made my way to the back of my apartment and into my bedroom. Flicking on the light, I made a beeline to my dresser where I pulled out the envelope containing the ticket. Next came my suitcase from underneath the bed. Despite my apprehensions, it was time I moved myself out of the funk I had allowed myself to fall into. I was going to embrace my impulsive side that I had ignored for so long. It was time that I found a balance between my hermit tendencies and my former reckless self. Maybe, just maybe, this little reunion trip to 'Isle de Corpor' could be a great starting point.

---

Edward Masen

I was pleased to find out I would be joining a few people for a long vacation. I had been looking for an excuse to take some time off, and a reunion was a perfect solution. I had a feeling that this stay would be particularly enjoyable. It would be nice to have a break for a while, just to relax and let down my guard.

"Edward?" a voice snapped, whisking me out of my lovely daydreams. A pretty strawberry-blonde stood in front of me, crossing her arms.

"Yes, Tanya?" I replied wearily.

"What are you doing, just sitting there?"

I sighed. "I don't know. The cold must be getting to me." I had recently moved here, to Denali, Alaska, to live with my girlfriend Tanya.

She gave me a piercing glare, then turned to walk away. "Oh, Tanya?" She turned back around to face me, tapping her foot impatiently. "I'm going away next week, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "And just where do you think you're going?" Jeez, she sounded as if she could be my mother. I handed her the letter, my proof that I wasn't simply running away from her.

Her glare softened as she read the letter. Even she could understand my need for some company. "Did you know this 'U.N. Owen' well?"

"Yes," I lied, "in fact, we were good friends in high school."

She looked surprised for a moment, and then asked, "So you're going to take time off work for this?" I nodded. Teaching psychology could wait. I needed a well-earned vacation. "Well," she said resignedly, "I suppose you could leave me for a little bit, then. If you absolutely must."

I grinned and gave Tanya a big, grateful kiss, something I was doing less and less of these days. She raised her eyebrows and lowered her eyelids seductively. I stared at her, not quite catching her drift as she attempted to drag me to her bedroom. Finally I got it. "No, Tanya! I've told you this a hundred times. Not until we're married!"

"Please?" she wheedled. She wasn't quite so attractive when she begged. I loved her, but she could be annoying as hell. She had done this so many times. Didn't she understand that my desire for honor was more prevalent than my hormonal desire for her body?

"Edward!" she whined irritatingly. "C'mon! For me?"

"No!" I barked, throwing her aside. Furiously, I stalked off to my room and began to pack. This vacation couldn't come soon enough.

---

Esme Evenson

I reread the letter, trying to place the name of the sender. It was addressed to 'Mrs. Esme Evenson' and I hadn't been called that in years. Thinking back to my high school years, I couldn't remember a single person called 'U.N. Owen'. Not surprising; I had tried to block out my memories of high school. My time in Columbus had been painful, at best. Glancing absentmindedly at the clock, I realized that I had to get to work.

I taught Junior Infants, and I loved my students. They were the children I never had. All too soon, 11:30 came, and I stepped out to let the Irish teacher come in.

Walking up to the staff room, I pulled out the letter again and reread it. Inside the envelope was another piece of paper, and a thicker one at that. A plane ticket.

Seeing that made my mind up for me. I had a month of leave, that'd see me through until next September, when I'd surely be back. I walked up to the principal, Ronan, and told him my plan.

"Go on, Esme," he said warmly, waving me away. With a grateful wave goodbye of my own, I walked out planning what to pack.

---

Jasper Whitlock

I lolled my head back, shut my eyes, and just smiled. Class-was-dis-missed. The only noises in the room consisted of papers ruffling and feet shuffling – out of the room.

I slid my Mac into my bag, zipped it closed, and threw the strap over my shoulder. Anxious to just get the hell out of here, I dove between people all the way to the parking lot to meet my Ford.

I would have made it too, I swear I would have, but someone waved their arms wildly at me as if they were directing traffic. Which in this case, I was the traffic.

Running over, Mark half-shouted half-drabbled, "Dude, dorms are that way, where're you going?" Finally reaching me, he bent over and placed his hands on his knees.

I avoided eye contact with him and tried to keep my response nonchalant. So, playing it down, I shrugged, "I leased an apartment some ways down the highway; I don't live in the dorms anymore."

Sneaking a glance, I noticed his big, brown eyes grow wide and then relax. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, "Man, I'm sorry. I should'a thought—"

I cut him off, "Hey, I'll catch you later; I really want to head home." While I said this, I inched away from him and towards my wonderful vehicle. One foot after the other…almost…there…

When he opened his mouth to speak, I turned away from him and walked on. He called after me, "Jasper! Rush, much? What's with you?"

I called back over the hood of the car, "Um, nothing. I've just been expecting something in the mail." _Lie._

As I was getting ready to rev the engine, I heard him mumble his goodbye and something about it being a Sunday. I shook my head to myself and threw my hand up through the window to flick my hand out in a wave.

Making my way out of the lot and toward the place I called home, several people waved at me. They were people I didn't even really know, but I still waved and smiled back for reasons unknown to myself.

Soon enough, I was on and off the highway. The phrase 'home-sweet-home' couldn't hold more truth to it than it did for me right now. Leaving my bag in the car, I locked the door and took slow, careful steps up the stairs. My room was on the third floor, unfortunately.

I was twirling the keys around my fingers when I noticed an envelope at the foot of my door. Frowning because I was sure was today was Sunday; I bent down to pick it up.

I brought the letter up to my mouth to tear open as I unlocked the door with the other hand. The hinges squeaked as the door swung open and smashed against the inner wall – I needed to get that fixed. I threw the keys on my futon couch/bed, gave up on tearing the letter open with my teeth, and ran my thumb under the flap.

I used my thumb and forefinger to slide the letter out to read it. As I did, I nudged the door shut with my foot.

I scoffed, "Yeah, a vacation would be amazing right about now." I sighed and tried placing the letter back in the envelope but something was in the way. I held it upside down and a rectangular shape fell out and fluttered to the floor. It was a plane ticket.

Oh, _okay_.

---

Bella Swan

I ran my fingers across the letter for what could have easily been the hundredth time. The paper was thick and looked expensive, but I was more impressed with the plane ticket tucked inside the envelope.

I hadn't been out of Phoenix in years. Really, I hadn't done _anything_ in years. I wasn't a risk-taker, so I most definitely wasn't the type to traipse halfway around the world to visit a total stranger on a tropical island in the middle of nowhere. Which was exactly why I was going to go.

I was sick of being predictable, or "reliable," the label my mother assigned to my doormat demeanor. Both Renee and my boyfriend Mike made me feel like a golden retriever: housebroken and loyal. But they didn't know me. Not really. The very core of whom I really was had never been visible to either of them, yet they were supposed to be the people closest to me in the entire world. If that thought hadn't depressed the hell out of me, I might have marveled at its irony.

I was capable of so much more than they realized, both the good and the bad.

_The bad…_

I bristled at the images ghosting their way through my head and flipped open my laptop. I needed to Google this Isle de Corpor and figure out if I needed a passport.

From the kitchen, Mike bellowed my name. "Bella, babe? I need you!"

I didn't answer; instead staring out through the dingy, dusty windowpane. For miles, all I could see was smog and traffic and hints of desert. I needed to get the hell out of here.

"Babe! Help me reheat this pizza!"

I swallowed and corrected myself. I needed to get the hell away from _him_.


End file.
